


Got Your Back (No Matter What)

by shiptoomuch



Series: Prompted [6]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Eating Disorders, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 11:11:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7168658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiptoomuch/pseuds/shiptoomuch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Bitty, you know anxiety disorders run in my family, right?” Ransom sits down at the kitchen table across from where Bitty’s got his study materials sat out, and a slice of pumpkin pie that he’s hardly touched in the last two hours.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Got Your Back (No Matter What)

“Bitty, you know anxiety disorders run in my family, right?” Ransom sits down at the kitchen table across from where Bitty’s got his study materials sat out, and a slice of pumpkin pie that he’s hardly touched in the last two hours.

Bitty frowns and looks up. “Is this a conversation you want to have with Jack? I’m pretty sure he’s out for a run right now, but he’ll probably be back soon. Do you want me to text him and tell him you need to talk?”

Ransom shakes his head and frowns. He’s clearly nervous, uncomfortable with what he’s about to say. “This isn’t about me, this is about _you._ I’ve been noticing things lately and I wanted to see if I could help.”

Bitty’s stomach twists. Ransom is most certainly staring at that slice of pie, with only one small bite taken from it. There’s no way that he doesn’t know how long Bitty’s been sitting here with it. 

-

The thing about being in charge of making the food in the Haus is that nobody notices if there’s something _odd_ about Bitty’s eating habits. _(Or lack thereof,_ a voice in his head says.)

It’s easy to disguise exactly how little he eats when he’s constantly making food. Who makes that much pie and doesn’t eat any of it?

So really, it’s easy for him to get away with eating as little as possible. He’ll make dinner and then call everyone down before escaping up to his room to study. He’ll eat a protein bar in the locker room before practice or a game, and nobody in their right mind will assume that it’s the only thing he’s eaten that day.

He’s an athlete, so he can’t go days without eating anything like he used to. He takes in just enough to keep himself able to keep moving on the ice, and that’s all he needs, really.

-

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sugar,” Bitty says, putting together his most composed expression and praying that he can use his southern charm to get away with murder like usual. 

Ransom, though, isn’t having any of it. “Bits, I’ve noticed. I don’t think anyone else has noticed because you’re such a small person, but I can see your ribs when you’re changing, and I know that you’re not eating as much as you should.”

“I’m eating right now,” Bitty says defensively, even though they both clearly know that’s a lie. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Ransom sighs. He folds his arms and leans back in his chair. “Look, I know that this is a very personal thing that’s really only going to be your decision to change, but I can’t sit here and let you do this. And if coaches found out…”

Bitty inhales sharply. He wouldn’t tell them, would he? There’s no way they would let a player with an eating disorder continue playing. “Ransom, I don’t know what to do.”

-

It happened between quitting figure skating and starting hockey. It was just a summer break, but Bitty started getting…soft. Where before he’d been lithe muscle and hard lines, he was now squishy and ill defined. He wasn’t fat by any means, but he noticed. 

He grew up in figure skating. He knew what girls did to keep looking like _figure skaters_ and not women. 

He didn’t recognize himself with the extra fat adorning his hips and stomach. He didn’t _like_ himself when he looked like that.

He was baking too much and not working out enough, and it was becoming a real problem. He needed to adjust. 

-

“How long?” Ransom asks gently.

Bitty shrugs even though he knows exactly how long it’s been. He has counted every moment and every hour that he’s been controlling himself so strictly. “I don’t even feel like the same person anymore.”

It’s said on an exhale that feels like a cleansing breath. He hasn’t ever talked about this, not even to himself. Nobody’s ever asked. “Ransom, I’m scared.”

Ransom nods understandingly. He doesn’t try to hug him or touch him in any way, like so many people try to do when they comfort Bitty for various reasons. And Bitty thinks that maybe this hockey bro is a lot more perceptive than people give him credit for. “Do you want to get help?”

Bitty bites his tongue and thinks about that. He’d always assumed that when someone found out, (when, not _if)_ nothing would be his choice. He had seen so many girls get ripped out of skating and locked away from their friends. None of them ever had any choices in getting better, and that was more terrifying than anything else in this situation. 

“Do you know someone who can help?”

“The university has a great psychological services department. And everything you tell them is confidential, so you don’t need to worry about your athletic scholarships being hurt.” Ransom pulls out his wallet and hands Bitty a business card from inside of it, with a number and the Samwell logo on it. 

He pockets it and pulls his knees up to his chest, resting his feet on the chair. “I do want to get better.”

“I know,” Ransom says confidently with a smile, “I know what it’s like to feel out of control and want to get that back at any cost. And I know what it’s like to try to do that in unhealthy ways.”

“You do?”

Ransom frowns and nods. “Let’s just say I did some pretty significant damage to myself. But what’s important is that you want to get better. And that you have someone in your life who cares that you do.”

Bitty bites his tongue to hold back the tears that prick at his eyes and buries his head between his knees. “I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry that you have to worry about me.”

“Don’t even worry about it. That’s what this team is about, after all. It’s not just hockey, it’s having each other’s backs no matter what.”


End file.
